Elementary, My Dear Williams
by jodm
Summary: A Sherlock Holmes conference, a purloined document that's more than it seems, and a wily thief - all in a day's work for Five-O and Hogan's team
1. Chapter 1

_Hawaii Five-O and Hogan's Heroes belong to CBS. No copyright infringement is intended._

_While the majority of the Sherlock stories are in the public domain, portions of "The Casebook of Sherlock Holmes" are still copyrighted by the Estate of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in the United States. No copyright infringement is intended._

* * *

**ELEMENTARY, MY DEAR WILLIAMS**

* * *

_**Chapter 1: The Game's Afoot  
**_

"My dear young woman! I must see Mr. McGarrett immediately. It's the crime of the century!

Jenny Sherman calmly regarded the apparition crowding her desk: old-fashioned bowler hat, tweed wool suit, stiff high-collared shirt, antique pocket watch . . . . He looked like a character in a Sherlock Holmes story.

As if reading her mind, the perturbed visitor continued, "I am Dr. John Talbot Watson. You may know of my ancestor, Dr. John H. Watson, chronicler of the Great Detective. It is imperative that I speak to Mr. McGarrett at once. A priceless manuscript was to be introduced at the Sherlockian Society gathering this weekend. It must be found!"

Jenny could almost hear the capital letters adorning his words. "Mr. McGarrett is meeting with the governor on a very important matter. Would you care to speak with Detective Williams, his second-in-command?" She'd noticed the young officer trying unsuccessfully to bury his eyes in the stack of reports cluttering his desk. The smirk on his face was very readable.

Danny bowed to the inevitable. "Dr. Watson," he began, "I overheard (how could he not) your conversation with Miss Sherman. If you'll come with me, I'll be happy to assist you." He ushered the visitor into his cubicle and motioned for him to take a seat. He heard a stifled laugh from Kono's cubicle. _You can work with me on this one, Bruddah! _

_o-o-o-o-o  
_

"Good morning, Steve," Governor Jameson said as he rose to greet his visitor. "I have a rather unusual request for you and Five-O."

Steve noticed the book on Jameson's desk. _The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. _"What can we do for you, sir?"

"I'm sure you're aware of the Hawaii Sherlockian Society gathering this coming weekend. Among other things, there is a display of important Holmesian artifacts, many of which are irreplaceable. Rumor has it that a newly discovered story is among them."

"And you'd like Five-O's assistance with security."

"You read my mind, Steve. I've been a Holmes aficionado since I was a boy and have been invited to address the conference at its opening evening dinner."

"Five-O will be glad to assist," Steve responded. What else could he say?

"The conference chairman is Dr. John Talbot Watson." Noting McGarrett's expression, he added, "Dr. Watson claims to be the great-great grandson of the original Watson. He's staying at the Ilikai. He'll be delighted to know Hawaii's own Sherlock is on the case. And thanks, Steve."

_o-o-o-o-o  
_

"How can Five-O help you?" the young detective began as he cleared away the papers from his desk and reached for his notebook. "You mentioned a stolen manuscript?"

"An original manuscript. Priceless," the agitated Watson answered. "You've read the accounts of Holmes' cases?"

"I read some of them when I was a kid."

"My dear Williams! Those cases are a compendium of the art of detection. They should be required reading for every officer. They are a training manual in proper police science by themselves."

Danny felt a headache coming on. "Could you describe the problem?" He tried to sound as Holmesian as possible.

"If you've read my ancestor's chronicles, you'll recall the mention of a 'battered tin dispatch box stored in the vaults of Cox and Company.'" He stopped just long enough to acknowledge Williams' nod. "That box was reported to contain several unpublished manuscripts. The box disappeared sometime during the late war and the manuscripts were presumed lost. One of those lost stories has now surfaced in the attic of an old building slated for redevelopment. _The Giant Rat of Sumatra. _I have seen it and can verify its provenance. It is in my ancestor's unmistakable handwriting."

"Pardon me," Dan interrupted. "I thought the Sherlock Holmes stories were written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle."

"A common misconception. Doyle was merely the agent for the original Dr. Watson. He had the audacity to claim the stories as his own after my ancestor's passing."

Dan sighed. He wished Steve would return from Jameson's office soon. "Do you have any idea who might have taken the manuscript? Who else knows about it?"

"Anyone, everyone," Watson responded. "Professor Moriarty, Colonel Moran, Irene Adler . . . The news of the manuscript's discovery spread like wildfire."

Danny's headache increased in intensity. "Aren't the people, uh, suspects you mentioned characters in the stories?"

"It is customary for Sherlockians, who wish, to come as their favorite characters. However, the organizers of the conference have provided a list of attendees." He handed a copy to Williams. A quick glance assured Danny there were two names he wouldn't need to check out. He knew those two altogether too well. It was the ones he didn't know that worried him.

"Dr. Watson? The manuscript?" Danny prompted.

"It was kept in a safe deposit box in a local bank. I placed it there myself. When I went to check on it this morning, it was no longer there. Bank officials seemed surprised to see me and reminded me that I had been in less than two hours earlier." He paused as he relived the experience then continued. "I do, however, have a transcribed copy for you. Under no circumstances should it leave your possession."

Williams asked a few routine questions then assured his visitor that Five-O would do everything possible to apprehend the thief and restore the missing manuscript. He invited Watson to wait in the outer office while he notified McGarrett.

_o-o-o-o-o  
_

Lewis Avery Filer, master of disguise, thief extraordinaire, whistled merrily as he returned to his dingy Hotel Street room. He secured the custom lock (he had installed it personally) and gloated as he examined his latest acquisition. It had been so easy. He'd picked up the rumor of a new Holmes manuscript. A little research and he had discovered that the document was in the possession of one of Watson's descendants and would be unveiled at a conference here in Honolulu. He hadn't been able to resist the temptation. Now, all he had to do was find a buyer . . . or maybe hold the manuscript for ransom. Better than having such a priceless artifact locked away is a museum somewhere. After all, a senior citizen had to support himself.

Filer chuckled as he remembered how simple the theft had actually been. He'd disguised himself as a security guard and entered the vault with the teller and the present-day Watson. The man had fumbled with the key, finally dropping it. All Filer had to do was palm it, making an impression on a small piece of wax hidden in the palm of his hand. He'd been careful to touch nothing but the key. His fingerprints on the small object would be easily explained away. No one would suspect a helpful bank guard, would they?

Disguised as Watson, he'd made a quick trip to the bank early this morning to retrieve the manuscript. He'd wait until the hue and cry died down and then he'd head for the Mainland and a comfortable retirement.

_o-o-o-o-o  
_

"Louis, this is the best yet!" Andrew Carter exclaimed as he finished the last of his Poulet Polynésien. "I'll bet Schultz would love this!"

"Merci, mon ami," the master chef answered. He picked up one of the flyers scattered on the table. "Are you and Pierre planning to attend this, this Sherlock Holmes convention?"

"You bet, mate!" the Cockney answered, his accent more evident than usual. "Holmes was England's greatest detective. Just imagine what he would've done back in the old Stalag."

"And we're even going as characters from the stories," Carter chimed in. "I'm the German spy Von Bork. He's from _The Last Bow. _Achtung! Raus! Raus!"

"You sound more like old Schultzie," Newkirk laughed. "I always pictured Von Bork looking more like Klink. All you'd need is a monocle and a riding crop."

LeBeau couldn't resist. "Et vous, mon ami? Does Frau Newkirkberger plan to make an appearance?"

"That'd be a bit out of character. I was thinking perhaps Inspector Lestrade or Mrs. Hudson. What about you? There's still time to sign up."

"I'm catering the first evening's reception. I have a wonderful menu planned, the finest French-Polynesian delicacies."

"Holmes was British," Newkirk snickered. I can make a few suggestions."

Carter stepped on the Cockney's foot. "Don't even think about it!"

o-o-o-o-o


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2: A Few Clues**_

* * *

"Pardon me, Steve," Governor Jameson said as the buzzing of the phone interrupted their conversation. He handed the phone to McGarrett. "It's Danny, for you."

Danny quickly reported the theft of a Holmes manuscript, ending with "Dr. Watson is here in the office. I think you should talk to him."

McGarrett summarized the conversation for the governor then excused himself. He barely heard Jameson's "Keep me informed, Steve."

He sailed into Five-O headquarters a few minutes later and invited his team and Watson to join him in his private office. He needed details. Watson was only too glad to supply them.

"You must understand, Mr. McGarrett," the physician began, "This manuscript is unique. One of the lost stories, written in Dr. Watson's own hand, never published. Collectors of Holmesiana around the world would pay a small fortune to acquire it." The man's agitation increased with every word.

"The manuscript was authenticated?" Steve questioned.

"Of course," Watson replied. "Handwriting analysis and comparison with known samples from my ancestor, paper, ink, . . .everything possible was checked. The manuscript is genuine. I have a copy of the authentication for you. For the sake of Holmesians everywhere, it must be recovered." The physician was adamant.

"You told Detective Williams that a security guard accompanied you and the teller into the vault. Could you describe him for one of our police artists?"

"I'm afraid not, Mr. McGarrett. I was more concerned with seeing the manuscript properly secured. All I can tell you is that he was an older man, about Mr. Williams' height, and rather thin." He shrugged as he added, "As Holmes often chided my ancestor, I saw, but did not observe. I'm sorry."

"Are there any other details you can remember, Doctor?" Dan asked.

Watson wrinkled his brow in thought. "Yes, there is one other thing. I was so nervous that I dropped the key to the box. The guard picked it up and handed it to me."

Vague as it was, something about Watson's description tickled Steve's memory. "Chin, talk to that teller. Perhaps she can give us more details."

"On it, Boss," the Chinese detective acknowledged as he left the office.

"You will find the manuscript, won't you?" Watson's voice shook. "It is irreplaceable, a treasure."

"We'll do our best," Steve promised. "Five-O will handle security at the opening reception. Now, would you describe the plans for that event?"

"There will be a welcome by the governor, but I'm sure you already know that. It's also customary for participants to come in costume as characters from the stories. There will be a few other short presentations and a display of Holmesian artifacts, some of great value."

"Perhaps enough to attract our thief," the lead detective mused. "Anything else? Who is catering the reception?"

"Master Chef Louis LeBeau. He is a culinary genius! Do you know him?"

Steve nodded. "Thank you, Dr. Watson. Kono will drive you back to the Ilikai. We'll meet again tomorrow." He shook hands with his visitor.

"We're going to need some extra help on this one, Danno. You have the list of participants? Anyone on it we know?"

Dan grinned. "Newkirk and Carter. And they're both masters of disguise. Maybe you can deputize them."

"Good idea!" McGarrett laughed. "Any other suspicious characters? Besides Professor Moriarty, of course."

"Mostly locals, some visitors from the Mainland and Australia. A Japanese professor." He scanned the list again. "There's also a German baroness. Ilsa von Krimm. And a Dr. Helmut Metzger. He teaches at Heidelberg University."

"Those names sound familiar. I wonder if Hogan or Kinch know anything about them."

"I'll contact Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau," Danny finished Steve's thought. "And check out that authentication. There's something about Watson that seems too good to be true."

Steve couldn't agree more.

_o-o-o-o-o  
_

"Baroness von Krimm?" Hogan questioned as he activated the speaker. "Ilsa von Krimm? She was a Gestapo agent who nearly wrecked our operation at Stalag 13. We had to shanghai old Schultz to stop her." Hogan chuckled at the memory. His tone grew more serious as he added, "She's known to have passed classified information on to the highest bidder. Intelligence has been watching her."

McGarrett sensed a story, one he'd like to hear someday. "She may be involved in the theft of a valuable manuscript, possibly as a receiver of stolen goods."

"Manuscript? That doesn't sound like her usual mode of action. What kind of manuscript?"

"Believe it or not, a Sherlock Holmes story, one of the lost tales, written in Dr. Watson's own hand."

Kinch broke into the conversation. "It was supposed to be presented at that convention this weekend. Carter and Newkirk are going." He thought for a moment. "Maybe we should plan a little spying of our own. General, you'd make a great Professor Moriarty!"

"I think I'll leave that one to Major Hochstetter. Now, Steve, are there any other attendees we should know about?"

"A Professor Helmut Metzger," McGarrett supplied.

"Metzger, Metzger," Hogan mused. "There was a general by that name who attempted to store some stolen art treasures near Stalag 13. He sat out the war in a British POW camp. We called him 'the Collector General.' I wonder if this professor is a relative."

Kinch added, "Sounds like you could use our help. And since Newkirk and Carter will be there, how about a little undercover operation? I'd love to play a villain! Or a Scotland Yard man."

Steve heard a touch of laughter in the electronics expert's voice. "An undercover operation might be a good idea. Could we meet at the Palace around seven tonight?"

"I'll ask LeBeau to bring dinner," Hogan confirmed the time. "We'll make it a joint operation. I wonder why those two would be interested in an old manuscript."

"There might be more to it than just the story," McGarrett noted.

_o-o-o-o-o  
_

Lewis Avery Filer sauntered into the lobby of the Ilikai. His disguise was perfect: aloha shirt, khaki slacks, sandals (with socks – got to look like a typical newly-arrived visitor from the Mainland), a floppy-brimmed fabric hat, tinted glasses, and, of course, a camera slung around his neck. No one would take him for anything but a tourist.

He wandered over to the concierge desk. At the young woman's "How may I help you?" he inquired about tours and bought a ticket for a round-the-island trip. Definitely something a tourist would do!

He had another question. "I noticed posters advertising a Sherlock Holmes conference and exhibits. Are visitors welcome to attend?"

The employee was only too happy to give him the information he sought, pointing out the room where the conference would be held. "There will also be an exhibit of rare Holmesian artifacts," she added helpfully.

Filer thanked her and walked to the entrance of the room. _Might as well look the place over; get the lay of the land._ A glance into the room gave the thief the information he needed: exits, set-up, exhibit spaces, tables and speaker's podium. All he'd have to do is scope out potential buyers. _There's no way McGarrett will recognize me once I'm in costume!_

_o-o-o-o-o  
_

McGarrett looked around the small conference room. "Gentlemen, what do we have?"

Chin passed around copies of a sketch. "The bank teller was able to give a good description of that supposed guard. Look familiar?"

"Lewis Avery Filer," Steve growled. "We put him away a few months ago."

"He was released a couple of weeks ago," Chin said. "Seems like he's up to his old tricks."

Newkirk studied the picture. "Blimey, if it isn't ol' Lewie! He was one of the guys we sent back to England!"

"Yeah," Carter added. "He was part of a group of guys we had to keep down in the tunnels for almost a week. The Gestapo was too active to risk sending anyone out. One of Hochstetter's witch hunts. Lewie was really interested in how we put our disguises together. Guess we taught him too much."

"He was interested in communications, too," Kinch continued. "You should have heard him imitating accents. He was good at it."

"Mon Dieu!" LeBeau exclaimed. "We created a criminal!"

"I'd bet he already was one," Hogan interrupted. "I remember that there were lots of complaints about missing food and cigarettes. We always figured the guards took them from our Red Cross packages. Filer must have used them for barter."

"At least we know who we're looking for," McGarrett commented. "Anything else?"

"I checked on that manuscript," Dan answered. "The company that supposedly authenticated it is a fake. Makes me wonder about the manuscript itself – and about Dr. Watson. I sent the folder and typescript he gave me to Che. There may be some fingerprints he can lift."

I wondered about dat guy, Boss," Kono added. "It felt like he was puttin' on an act. He was just too good to be true!"

"Check with the _Star-Bulletin _and the _Advertiser_, Chin." McGarrett ordered. "Find out if they have any photos."

"On it, Boss," the Chinese detective replied.

"Speaking of photos," Hogan broke in, "I had intelligence send over recent pictures of the baroness and Metzger. He really is an economics professor. Von Krimm, on the other hand, is a former Gestapo agent and is thought to be a spy for East Germany."

"Newkirk and I will take pictures of conference participants. We got lots of practice back at the old Stalag," Carter laughed. "The Nazis never realized how the Allies got all those photos of potential targets!"

"Yeah," Newkirk teased, "As long as you remembered to put film in the camera."

_o-o-o-o-o_


	3. Chapter 3

_Things can get complicated when the Boys from Barracks 2 are involved . . ._

* * *

_**Chapter 3: Twists and Turns  
**_

"My dear Friedrich,"Baroness von Krimm greeted her guest in German, "how good to see you! It has been too long! Since that meeting in Berlin, I believe?" She left the door open for a response.

"And it is good to shed that dreadful Watson persona," the man replied in the same language. "I hate that simpering English doctor. I've pretended to be him far too long. Holmes this, Holmes that. The Master Detective! Bah!" He sounded like a former Gestapo officer of their acquaintance. "I have bad news," he growled.

"The document, Herr Baumann?" the baroness guessed. Her tone changed; the initial warmth was now glacial. "Something has happened to it?" She had memories of a similar occurrence in an encounter with a certain POW officer during the late war.

"It has been stolen," Baumann admitted. "It was taken from a safe deposit box in a bank. I was forced to go to Five-O for help in its recovery."

"Five-O!" she snarled. "McGarrett! He has a reputation as both a police officer and an intelligence expert!" She took a deep breath. "But perhaps we can use that to our advantage and discredit his unit in the process." Her smile reminded Baumann of a hungry wolf. "McGarrett thinks this is a simple theft? He doesn't know the true nature of the papers?"

"He has only a typescript of the story. The original document is in the possession of the thief. And I am certain that person has no idea what he actually has. At most, he will peddle it as a newly-discovered story in the hand of my 'great-great grandfather.'" The agent smiled. "It would take a high level of technical expertise to know how to reveal its true contents."

"And an engineering genius to understand and make use of them," von Krimm continued. "So, for the time being, we are secure on that account. Now, give me the details on this conference."

"The governor will welcome conference participants at an opening reception catered by Chef LeBeau . . ."

"Louis LeBeau?" the baroness interrupted. "Idiot! You were at Stalag 13! He's one of Hogan's men."

"I was there as a British officer, Group Captain Martin Roberts. I spoke only to Hogan, not to his followers," he answered, his voice tinged with anger.

"Yet he still unmasked you and later smuggled you to an English POW camp! And General Hogan now commands Hickam Air Force Base."

"He recognized you as Gestapo, too, my dear Baroness," Baumann retorted. "So we are even. We both suffered Hogan's deception and faced Hochstetter's wrath."

"We will be in costume at the reception. We will not be recognized. It's possible the thief will be there, hoping to find a buyer for his treasure. We may still be successful." She lifted a crystal decanter on a side table and poured two glasses of schnapps. "A toast, Herr Baumann. Success to our endeavors."

"And death to our enemies."

_o-o-o-o-o_

_Master __Thief Filer__. _The elderly man smiled at the self-imposed title. Yes, by now that meddling McGarrett – _too smart for his own good – _must have realized he was behind the theft. _Of course, he has to catch me first! _And the wily officer would need to penetrate a clever disguise. After all, who would suspect a fragile, prim, proper Victorian lady? Especially a lady of a certain age?

He ran a critical eye over his costume for the opening reception. More than ever, every detail had to be perfect: black dress, gloves, high-button shoes, a cameo pin, even a reticule. An expensive disguise purchased from a Mainland theatrical supply house; he considered it a business expense. He'd bought it under an assumed name, had it delivered to a Post Office box in Kahala. He'd been in disguise when he'd picked the parcel up. He was untraceable.

Next, the wig: salt-and-pepper grey, with a proper bun. It fit him perfectly. And that little hat! Just the kind of thing Conan Doyle would picture Mrs. Martha Hudson wearing on an outing to visit a friend. _For tea and crumpets and a bit of juicy gossip! Not that she'd ever admit it!_

Of course, he couldn't leave Hotel Street in costume – too obvious. So he'd use a safe house, a small hotel on a back street in Waikiki, one that catered to older visitors who wanted to avoid the hordes of younger tourists frequenting the beach. A quick change and no one would recognize the lost-looking senior citizen who'd obviously taken a wrong turn and wound up on the seedy side of town. He packed the costume in a cloth shopping bag, secured the manuscript between the pages of an old copy of _The_ _Saturday Evening Post_ and stuffed it and the wig into a camera case. He waved at his landlady as he reached the street, looked around, a suitably confused expression crossing his face, and hailed a passing cab.

_o-o-o-o-o_

"What have you got, Danno?" Steve smiled as his young second-in-command entered the big office, papers and photos in hand.

"Maybe a lead, a small one. I distributed photos of our friend Filer to HPD officers. Duke reported that one of his snitches down on Hotel Street thinks that he saw Filer leaving one of the old rooming houses in that area. The guy couldn't be certain-said old Lewie looked like a lost tourist. He hailed a cab. Kono's checking with drivers who were in the area around that time."

"Good, Danno. Anything else?"

"Chin's running the list of registered participants through the Iron Brain. I wired a photo of Baroness von Krimm to the FBI and should have something back tomorrow at the latest. And I've got a couple of photos of our Dr. Watson." He placed them on McGarrett's desk. "Newkirk's checking with MI-6 to see if they have any info on him. He's also looking into Watson's credentials. He's not sure, but he says there's something familiar about the good doctor."

McGarrett studied the photos. "Nothing on his background in the news stories?"

"Only the usual," Dan laughed. "Noted British physician, descendant of the original Watson. Nothing personal - no mention of parents, birthplace, medical school, military service. One more thing: he does have a reputation as an expert on the Holmes stories. He's a member of the London Baker Street Irregulars. Newkirk's checking with them, too. You know, if he weren't one of Hogan's team, he's make a good Five-O detective."

"Just don't get into a poker game with him" Steve teased then added in a more serious tone, "I called Jonathan Kaye. He identified the baroness as an East German agent who sometimes works with former Gestapo members; no recent contacts there, as far as he knows. Hogan may have more from his sources. We'll be meeting with him and his team tomorrow morning. Meanwhile, we'd better get over to the Ilikai and check on security arrangements."

_o-o-o-o-o_

Baumann opened the small black box he'd hidden in a special compartment in his suitcase and lifted out a tiny but vicious weapon. The small single-shot pistol, mounted on a leather sheath, strapped on the lower arm. The weapon was one of only two crafted by Gestapo experts during the war. One had been taken from him by that spy Hogan after he'd failed to convince the POW that he was a captured British airman. Baumann had played that role perfectly; he'd simply underestimated just how much his enemy had infiltrated the camp's communications systems or how thoroughly he'd bugged the place. Von Krimm could have her document. He would have his revenge. He secured the small weapon and once again donned his persona as the Holmes-obsessed Dr. Watson.

_o-o-o-o-o_

* * *

_**Note: **_ _Baroness von Krimm appeared in the Hogan's Heroes episode "My Favorite Prisoner." She was played by Marj Dusay, who later portrayed Nicole Wylie in the Five-O episode "The Singapore File."_

_Friedrich Baumann was a character in the Hogan's Heroes episode "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to London." His mission, foiled by the Colonel, was to assassinate Churchill._


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter 4: Pieces of the Puzzle**_

* * *

Newkirk squinted at the photo on his desk. He looked away, then picked the photo up, turning it this way and that. He'd seen this man before, not recently and not here. But where? The doctor's mustache reminded him of Hochstetter. The MI 6 officer wondered what the man would look like without it. A quick phone call might provide the answer.

"Five-O," Jenny Sherman's pleasant voice answered. At Newkirk's request, she connected him to Steve.

Newkirk didn't wait for a preamble as he asked McGarrett's permission to use Che Fong's services. "That photo of Watson you sent over tickles a memory. I'd like to have Che do some work on it."

"You've got a lead?"

"Maybe," the Cockney replied. "I think we had a run-in with this guy some time ago. He wasn't on our side. I can tell you more after I talk to Che."

His curiosity aroused, Steve OK'd the request. "I'll tell him you're on the way."

Newkirk thanked McGarrett then called London. "I need information on the whereabouts of Friedrich Baumann…whatever you've got and soon!"

_Better let the Guv'nor know. He'll want to be in on this. _Hogan did.

_o-o-o-o-o  
_

Kono watched as a group of senior citizens left the small hostelry. He'd been lucky in questioning the cabbies frequenting Hotel Street. One of them had admitted to picking up Filer – or someone who looked like him – and conveying him to Waikiki. "One of da strangest ducks I ever picked up," the man had commented. "Don't see someone like him on Hotel Street very often. Acted like he was lost." Kono thanked the cabbie and took down his information. He might be needed as a witness later.

The big Hawaiian stretched and then he unwrapped a grilled mahi-mahi sandwich from LeBeau's. That man did know how to cook! With his attention fixed on his lunch, he almost missed the somewhat disoriented elderly woman clad in the brightest muumuu he'd ever seen. Filer! It had to be! Only a malihini – or a master of disguise – could get away with that outfit. He watched as the object of his scrutiny entered a drug store down the block. She emerged a few minutes later, shopping bag in hand, and returned to the hotel.

_Filer must of got to his room now. _Kono reluctantly re-wrapped the partially eaten sandwich and headed into the lobby. _Good thing I switched to an aloha shirt. _He asked to see the manager.

"Kono Kalakaua, Five-O," he announced, displaying his badge. "Is dis man staying here?" he questioned as he handed the manager a photo of Filer.

"Ah, Herr Walter Fuller," came the reply. "Is he a criminal?"

"Just need his room number, Bruddah. No problems."

"Room 121. It's on the second floor. We use the European system here as we often receive visitors from the Continent. It makes them feel more at home."

Kono thanked the man and accepted his card. "Keep quiet about dis, eh, Bruddah? Don't want da guy to know we're interested in him." Kono exited the building and returned to his car to report in.

_Steve'll be happy to know Filer's hideout, _Kono thought as he picked up the mic. "Kalakaua to Central Dispatch. Patch me through to McGarrett." At the lead detective's growled "McGarrett," the Hawaiian continued, "Found where Filer's holed up, Boss." He gave the address and room number. "Want me to pick him up?"

"Good work, Kono," Steve answered. "Just keep an eye on him. I'll have Duke relieve you soon. And finish your lunch." Kalakaua could hear McGarrett's chuckle as he disconnected.

_o-o-o-o-o  
_

"It's the best I can do, General," Che Fong said as he handed the retouched photograph to Hogan. "I removed the mustache and re-did the hair."

"Recognize him, Guv'nor?" Newkirk asked.

"Baumann," Hogan responded. "What is he doing here? We need to get this to McGarrett!"

"I'll call him," the forensic scientist said. "He'll definitely want to see this."

"And I'll need to contact my team," Hogan added. "Tell McGarrett we'll meet in two hours."

_o-o-o-o-o  
_

"That's it," Hogan said as he handed McGarrett a copy of the retouched photo. "We've been able to identify Dr. Watson as Friedrich Baumann. He was a Nazi deep cover agent during the war. His original assignment was to assassinate Churchill."

"We stopped that one," Newkirk continued the story, "at least the Guv'nor here did. We picked him up a few months later and sent him off to Blighty."

"Information I received from military intelligence indicates he's been under very deep cover for a number of years," Hogan added. "He's been suspected in a few incidents, but nothing's ever been proven. He probably has several identities; Watson may be his primary one."

"So," McGarrett queried, "Why is he really here? And what could it have to do with the missing manuscript?"

"Maybe it's not the manuscript," Danny broke in, "but something in it."

"Like a code, Bruddah?" Kono, back from stake-out duties, suggested.

"Or something else."

"So, gentlemen," McGarrett said, "we need to get that manuscript. And for that, we need Filer. Kono, invite our friend to pay us a visit. Chin, pick up a search warrant for both his rooms. We may need it."

"On our way, Steve," Chin acknowledged.

"Mind if I come along? MI 6 might be interested in that manuscript," Newkirk said. "I'd like a hand in picking him up."

Hogan laughingly agreed as the men left on their mission.

Steve changed the subject. "You've got an idea about that manuscript, Danno?"

"Yeah. I read the story and it has the wrong feel." He searched for a word. "It feels almost… modern."

"Could I read it?" Carter asked. "I know the Holmes stories really well."

"Really well?" Kinch snickered. "He and Newkirk practically have them memorized!"

Danny handed the typescript copy to the demolitions expert. Carter read a few pages and confirmed the young detective's suspicions, adding, "Besides, it's only twelve pages, that's just about three or four thousand words. Conan Doyle's stories were much longer."

"I'd better call Jonathan Kaye," Steve said.

_o-o-o-o-o  
_

"Guten Tag, Herr Fuller," Newkirk said as he knocked on the door of room 121. "Raus! Raus!"

Filer nearly jumped in surprise. German! He hadn't heard that language since the war. The voice sounded vaguely familiar. He quickly stuffed the wig and manuscript back in the camera case.

Newkirk tried a second time. "Hey, Lewie," he switched to a strong Cockney accent, "heard you were in town. Haven't seen you since the old Stalag. How about we knock back a beer or two and talk about the good old days? I know this great little hofbrau . . ."

Filer searched his memory for the owner of that voice. _Stalag, Stalag. The only one I remember is Stalag 13. _How could he ever forget? He'd spent a week stuck in those tunnels that honeycombed the camp. Tunnels, endless poker games, odd comings and goings . . . Newkirk!

He opened the door only to face a Five-O detective.

"McGarrett would like to talk to you," Kono said as he and Newkirk pushed into the room. "And bring dat manuscript you stole, Bruddah."

Filer shrugged. _Might as well play along with the game, or at least pretend to._ "Am I under arrest, Detective?" he asked as he grabbed a heavy ashtray and with a quick move tossed it at Kono.

The Hawaiian officer fumbled with the projectile; Filer grabbed the camera case and slipped past him—and found himself confronting Newkirk. A quick move and the thief was backed against the wall. "You heard the nice Bobbie," the Cockney said, "Mr. McGarrett wants to see you. So come along quietly or it's thirty days in the cooler. And we'll take that old case with us, too."

_o-o-o-o-o  
_

"Friedrich Baumann?" McGarrett and his companions could hear the surprise in Jonathan Kaye's voice. "You know where he is? How?"

"I'll let General Hogan answer that," Steve said as he handed the phone to the military officer.

Hogan relayed the story and asked for any relevant information on the spy's current activities, noting that the presence of Baroness von Krimm pointed to some type of operation. When the Intelligence chief seemed reluctant to answer, Hogan added that he and his team all held high security clearances. "In fact," he said with a grin, "my clearance might be higher than yours."

From what Kaye knew of Robert Hogan's undercover activities, he'd bet that was true. "Hogan, McGarrett," he began, "this goes no further than Five-O and your team. We have some information that research for a new missile guidance system has been stolen and key parts passed somehow to Baumann. We have an idea who initially got into the material but when we caught up with him, he'd already passed it on. We believe Baumann is acting as the middleman in the affair."

"He's using the persona of Dr. Watson," Hogan said. "He's unaware so far that we've guessed his real identity. We also have an idea of where the material might be. Five-O is checking that out."

"If it is Baumann," Kaye said, "it's imperative you catch him and his collaborator with the material. Keep me informed. And be careful. That man is dangerous."

"We know," Steve replied as he ended the call.

o-o-o-o-o

Baroness von Krimm carefully checked her appearance in the dressing table mirror. She'd accepted an invitation from Herr Professor Metzger: n_oted economist, privy to a great deal of high level information. Perhaps I can pry something useful out of him, without him realizing it, of course. _

Metzger was a mere diversion. Her main concern was Baumann. _He has failed and now has involved McGarrett and Hogan. Once I have the document, he will have to be eliminated, but only after we return to the Fatherland. An execution here would only serve to deepen Five-O's involvement. _As a precaution, she slipped a small silver derringer – a lady's pistol – into her purse. _A girl needs some protection in these Islands. There are so many thieves about._

_o-o-o-o-o_


End file.
